The Cockade
by clairlune
Summary: Modern AU: Set in Paris, where everyone is born with a tattoo which matches up with their soul mate. Eponine escapes her parents and befriends the student group known as Les Amis. Believing she has found her soul mate, she joins Les Amis in their plans to overthrow the government... Rated T because Les Amis don't lead a very PG life... Eventual E/E, M/C
1. Prologue

Author Notes: Hey there! This is my first Les Miserables fic. It started off as a one shot concept, but when I sat down to write, it just kept flowing. It is set in modern day Paris, however the monarchy still is there today. If you have any questions relating to any of the history stuff (not so relevant now, but will be in later chapters...) please just shoot me a message! Anyway, thank you for reading!

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Imagine a world where the fates were kind enough to give you a physical indication of whom your soul mate is; a small mark which you are born with, which, as you grow older and shape your character, transforms into a petite tattoo which is a reflection of your humanity. Your destined also bears that same mark. What do you think your mark would be? Would this make finding your one true love easier? You would think so; however that is not always the case. This mark could be anywhere on your body, visible or not depending on your attire. It could be something which you don't entirely understand yourself, therefore you could hide it if you did not wish others to see. It could lead to a case of mistaken identity, where you can see someone else's mark, partially concealed, and believe that it matches your own. This ultimately leads to that tragedy we know as unrequited love, and this is what happened to one person called Éponine Thénardier.

Éponine Thénardier was the eldest daughter of a conman and his wife. She was born with her mark on her right wrist. Under the regime of Louis-Philippe her father was able to take advantage of vulnerable people travelling to the city. He was the leader of an infamous group of criminals known as Le Patron and he oversaw much of the underworld dealings in Paris. As his trade and fortunes flourished, so did Éponine's education. Her father had her enrolled at the best school in Paris and she was an excellent student. It was here where her mark began to take the shape of a cockade of the tricolor. She was passionate about stories and history and the French language, and her feature reflected that.

This changed as she turned 12. There were outbreaks of unrest in border regions, signs of malcontent with the monarchy. While the rebellions were always quickly quashed and violence never reached Paris, the monarchy began to crack down on what it had turned a blind eye to, bringing in a notoriously efficient officer by the name of Javert. As a result Éponine's father lost money and became more desperate to maintain his lifestyle at the expense of his family. Éponine was pulled out of school and home schooled by her mother, which actually meant that she was taught how to break into other people's homes and take what she thought would please her dear papa. As she was exposed to her father's underlings for the first time her cockade began to show some wear and tear. She became hardened and cynical, like a true member of Le Patron. Then she met Montparnasse. He was a younger man, new to the Paris underworld. He was charming and crafty and dark. Éponine's father owed him more money than he would pay him; therefore he traded Éponine to Montparnasse. It was after the first time he hit her that speckles of blood appeared on the cockade.

Eventually she was able to escape to a shelter. From there she was able to make a deal with Javert to help take down Le Patron; Éponine changed her surname to Jondrette and was put up in a safe house and her siblings were put into state care. One day a student moved in across the street, a young man who caught the eye of Éponine. And this is where our story begins.


	2. Chapter 1

Author Note: I'm on a roll tonight so I thought I'd upload the next chapter! For me introductions are always the most difficult part, so please stick with it! Please give me any feedback. Enjoy.

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Eponine had been cooped up in her tiny apartment for nearly a month. Since the conviction of her father and his gang, Le Patron, she had been too scared to wander the streets alone. She was the key witness against them, and was awarded immunity as well as a safe house to live in for her testimony. Unfortunately for her, this safe house was a shoebox of an apartment, in a part of Paris which was inhabited by riff raff and, more recently, students. She knew her father and his gang had eyes everywhere and that she could never fully escape their clutches, even when they were behind bars. Despite her fear for the outside world, Eponine needed to get out. She was starting to go crazy inside these four walls, and she had run out of her staple supplies; chocolate and coffee.

It was a beautiful summer day in Paris; however Eponine left the apartment hidden under a trench coat, news boy cap, and gloves. She knew how to get around unseen. 'If you don't dress like you're trying to attract attention, then you will blend in' her mother's words echoed through her head. She regretfully remembered the time when her school books were traded in for lock picks. Eponine knew all kinds of things you couldn't learn from books of any kind, and while this knowledge was going to keep her alive in this world, she wished she didn't have to use it. She made her purchases at the local store and hurried back to the apartment.

Once safely inside the four walls again, Eponine began the ritual of removing the excess clothing. Whenever she had the big coat and cap on she felt like just another minion of Le Patron. This did not reflect who she wanted to be. The coat belonged to Eponine Thenardier, daughter of a conman. She was now Eponine Jondrette, though she had no idea who that was yet. She removed her gloves and the splash of colour on her right wrist caught her eye. The cockade was there; a constant reminder of the life she was born into, the promise she had shown, the future which was stolen from her, and exactly how little her family had really valued her. She hated her mark. It was there for everyone to see. Most people were born with their mark in places which were not immediately visible for the world to pass judgement on. She was not so lucky. Eponine was never that lucky. She quickly put the gloves back on. It seemed that, unfortunately, the gloves did belong to Eponine Jondrette.

Eponine shook herself out of her current train of thought and made herself a mocha. Her mochas were legendary in the Paris underworld. It was just that right amount of sweetness before that kick of bitter coffee gets you as it goes down. Just like her, the thugs would always say. She took her mug over to the window sill and watched the street below. She loved to watch people come and go, fantasising about the people's lives and dream up scenarios where she would fit in seamlessly into their stories.

She noticed an expensive car pull up across the street. She was never one to notice car brands, but she knew that no one who lived on this street could afford to a car like this. Out of the car stepped an older man in a suit with a cane. He sighed as he took in his surroundings. A younger man stepped out of the other side. Eponine immediately noticed his eyes. They were bright and kind, and just for a moment they met with hers. She was engulfed with this warm feeling she had never felt before. The young man smiled at her and she felt dizzy. Not knowing what to do, she jumped back from the window, out of view, but still within listening distance.

"I don't understand why you would want to give up the luxuries you have at home to live in a place like this, Marius!" the older man stated.

"Grandpa, I need to know what life is like outside the maison walls. You have kept me so sheltered, but now is the time that I must learn about the world, not just from books, but from my own experiences." The younger man, Marius replied. Eponine was highly amused at this remark. He would get an education in this neighbourhood, that's for sure.

This conversation continued on for the better part of an hour, while a removalist truck arrived and Marius and his grandfather supervised furniture and boxes being moved into the building. After one last unsuccessful plea, the grandfather left in his shiny car and Marius closed the door behind him. Moments later he reappeared on the same level as Eponine, in the building across the street. He began to unpack books from boxes. Eponine continued to watch, safely concealed in the shadows of her own apartment. She wondered what his story was, and whether he felt the same warmth she did when he looked at her.

So lost in thought was she that it was barely noticed when he removed his shirt and was left wearing a singlet. Eponine liked her new neighbour, this Marius, very much. She hoped that he was fond of walking about his apartment without the constraints of clothing. It was when he sat in the window sill with his back to the street that she noticed something which drained the blood from her face. Poking out of the top of the singlet was a splash of colour, similar to hers. There was the red from her cockade. It was his mark. His mark which was the same as hers. Eponine ran a cold shower while she conceived a plan to introduce herself to this Marius, her soul mate.


	3. Chapter 2

AN: Ok, yes I know I am the worst person ever for updating. I am sorry. I promise I will try to update more often. Let me know what you think. I am also over on tumblr as madame-de-polastron so come find me and say hi if you would like. Anyway here is more introduction stuff. Enjoy.

Eponine watched Marius in his apartment from her window as she absentmindedly thumbed at the letter addressed to him that she acquired earlier that day. It had been a week since he had moved in and she never seemed to run into him on the street. She decided to take matters into her own hands, and besides it wasn't like she was stealing the letter, she thought. It was more like taking destiny into her own hands. Her talents which were bestowed on her by her family had rarely, if ever, been used for good, and after all true love is the most noble cause, right?

Eponine took a deep breath and made her way downstairs and across the street to Marius' building. Hesitating for a moment, she knocked on his door.

"Monsieur Pontmercy?" she asked, after he answered the door.

"Yes? Do I know you?" he replied, looking at her quizzically.

"No, I do not believe so. I live in the building across the street." she responded, meekly.

"Oh," he smiled, "How do you know my name?" She held up the letter in her dark, gloved hands.

"It seems that the postman got a little confused." she giggled at him.

"Well the letter made it here in the end, so that is all that matters, right, err…" He suddenly realised he did not know her name.

"Eponine. My name is Eponine."

"It is a pleasure to meet you, mademoiselle Eponine." He held out his hand.

"Likewise, monsieur Pontmercy." She took his hand with hers and shook it, firmly. Her father always told her a weak handshake was the sign of a weak spirit.

"Please, call me Marius." He was so charming and pleasant, everything she had hoped he would be.

"Ok, Marius." She smiled. "If there is anything you ever need, I'm just across the road in apartment nine." She pointed past him to his window and then her window. "And I make the best mocha you have ever had."

"That sounds like just what I need right now! I have an exam tomorrow and I have so much reading to do!" Marius sighed. Eponine's face lit up.

"No problem! I can just go across the road and grab some supplies. I will be right back!" Eponine practically skipped down the stairs all the way to her apartment and back. She also felt that a fresh application of makeup would not go astray.

As Eponine approached Marius' door he could hear another voice from inside.

"How could you even say that, Marius?!" The voice was severe and masculine. Whomever it was sounded angry, and she decided that Marius probably needed rescuing from this situation.

The door was ajar and she walked into the living room where the shouting was coming from, ingredients in hand. There were two other men with Marius, surrounded by books. None of them seemed to notice her slip in.

"All I said was that as far as French leaders from history go, Napoleon Bonaparte would be the best choice! Courfeyrac, back me up here." Marius turned to one of the men, the less enraged one.

The less enraged one, Courfeyrac, crossed his arms over his chest. "You're on your own, Pontmercy."

"Marius, he was a military dictator who…" The angry one stopped when he noticed Eponine standing in the doorway. He looked her up and down and his eyebrows furled. "May we help you?" He asked, harshly. Before she had the chance to reply Marius came to her defence.

"Enjolras, be polite! This is Eponine from across the road. Apparently she makes the best mochas." Marius rose and guided her to the kitchen.

"Is everything ok in there? Who does that guy think he is and what makes him think he can talk to people like that?" Eponine asked.

"That's just Enjolras, and he is… passionate. This always comes up when we study for history." Marius replied, while getting some mugs out.

"History was always my favourite subject at school. It was nice to read about the ladies of the aristocracy and I would pretend I would grow up and become one of the ladies in the court who was a confidante of the queen. It's childish, I know…" She absentmindedly reminisced while she prepared the drinks.

"Well, don't be talking about the aristocracy when Enjolras is around." Marius grabbed two of the mugs and lead Eponine back out into the living room, and each of the drinks were distributed among the quartet.

"Why is that?" Eponine asked.

"Because I am a republican." Replied Enjolras. It was a term that Eponine was familiar with, though these days it meant all kinds of things. Under the rule of the French Court the terms 'terrorist' and 'republican' were used almost interchangeably.

"Were you involved with the attempted attack on the Louvre a few weeks ago?" She inquired. Enjolras scoffed into his mug and Courfeyrac looked like he was about to explode with laughter. Marius was hiding behind a book. "What? What did I say?" she was rather confused by their reactions.

"The so called 'republicans' you hear about are that in name only. They are terrorists that are fed by the poisoned words of Marat who is more set on creating an atmosphere ripe for the creation of anarchy, where they can pillage those who are vulnerable, than creating a truly democratic and equal society." Enjolras informed her as he took a drink from his mug.

"Well then, _Enjolras_, what is it that you want?" She emphasised his name.

"A republic free from monarchic rule and…" he paused, "This is really good mocha." She smiled smugly and turned to Marius who nodded in agreement. Enjolras cleared his throat and continued, "And a democratic system where every citizen has a right to representation under the law in a National Assembly. Something like what they have in America."

"But the French Court supported the Americans when they broke away from England. Why wouldn't they support representation like that here?" Eponine's response surprised the boys.

"She knows her history, and she makes amazing drinks. You can keep her, Pontmercy." Courfeyrac said. Eponine blushed and Marius looked confused.

"The reason the aristocracy supported the American War of Independence, mademoiselle, was because they were also at war with the British and this was a way to drain their resources and keep them away from French borders." Enjolras finished his mocha.

"Is that what you are studying?" She asked.

"No," Courfeyrac pouted, "We have to know about the lineage of the Royal Family back to Louis IX."

Eponine's eyes lit up, "Naming all the Madame Royales happens to be one of my party tricks! I'd be happy to help you guys study, if you would like?" The response was positive.

The four of them stayed at Marius' place well into the evening, with Eponine keeping the supply of hot drinks constant while quizzing them on various members of the French Royal Family throughout history.

During a break Marius opened the envelope Eponine had delivered. It was from his old penpal from Switzerland, Cosette, informing him she was moving to Paris in a few months and would love to meet up with him.

To Enjolras and Courfeyrac, Eponine was very strange. She was obviously not the kind of person who typically would move in the circles which aristocratic knowledge would be required. Her clothes were too big, and dark, her eyes, though bright, were sunken, her cheekbones seemed a little too prominent, and she never took her gloves off. She was always looking at Marius, seemingly to receive his praise. But she was friendly enough, and she was smart. She would become a permanent fixture at their group study sessions with her mochas and alternate view of the world which intrigued them all in completely different ways.


	4. Chapter 3

AN: So this is a little quick interim chapter for Smiles1998 who asked about Enjolras' tattoo/mark. Not really any Eponine in here, but there is the introduction of a fan favourite so hopefully that will tide you all over till next time!

Enjolras arrived home in the early hours of the morning from the study session. Eponine had been a godsend with both her drinks and knowledge of Bourbon lineage. Grantaire, his flatmate, was still awake with a wine in had while painting by candle light. He insisted that it was good enough for the masters of art so it was good enough for him. He was working on a scene from a non-specific revolution of past times, at the request of Enjolras.

After all the caffeine and cocoa, Enjolras was too awake to sleep, so decided to pour himself a wine and join Grantaire while the depressant effects of the alcohol took hold.

"So was Pontmercy as much of a painful twat as he normally is?" Asked Grantaire, without looking up from his masterpiece.

"And then some." Replied Enjolras, taking a sip of wine.

"So what was it you guys were working on tonight? How to successfully evade the firing squad?" Quipped Grantaire.

"No, actually. House of Bourbon wanky bullshit for history." Retorted Enjolras.

Grantaire laughed. "Not exactly your favourite subject that one."

"It actually wasn't too bad tonight, with the obvious exception that was Marius." Mused Enjolras.

"Oh yeah? Why is that?" Grantaire's curiosity was sparked. A night studying French Royalty and it 'wasn't too bad'? He put down his paintbrush and turned to study the features of Enjolras' face in the candlelight.

"One of his neighbours came over and helped us study, and make us mochas. And she was really knowledgeable on the topic as well."

"I am agog, I am aghast!" Exclaimed Grantaire.

"I swear to god that if you even start with me Grantaire I will throw this wine glass at you." Threatened Enjolras.

"I'm sorry, but you were studying your least favourite topic with Pontmercy, and then you tell me it wasn't as painful as it normally is, and then mention a girl. What am I supposed to think?" There was a pause. "Is she hot?" A cushion was soon travelling through the air towards his head.

"She is attractive, but that is entirely irrelevant to anything." Enjolras replied, matter of factly.

"Did you see her mark? Does it match anyone we know? More importantly does it match mine?" Grantaire queried, referring to the arrow on his forearm he was born with.

"I did not see. She was almost completely covered up. Even wore gloves the entire time."

"Hmm, interesting. What was her name?"

"Eponine. You know, like the old story. And the horse from Legend of Zelda." Said Enjolras.

"How classical, in all the best ways." Grantaire turned back to his painting.

Enjolras could feel the warmness of the alcohol taking hold. He took himself to bed after saying goodnight to Grantaire, who generally was up till dawn, or the wine ran out. While he prepared himself for bed he took his shirt off and stood in front of a mirror for a few moments, pondering what Grantaire had said earlier about his mark. He looked at his own; a red, white, and blue cockade over his heart on the left side of his chest. He had known from an early age that his soul mate was his country, his Patria. It was his destiny to save her from tyranny, why else would he bear the mark which was the pride and banner of the republican movement all his life? He would never find another living soul to match his, and he had accepted this fate a long time ago.


	5. Chapter 4

**AN: my most sincere apologies for my tardiness! I have no excuse except I am lazy. I also apologise if the formatting is a little out as I am uploading this from my iPad and I have no computer to upload it all properly from. I have the next chapter roughly written out so once I type it up that will be up soon! **

As semester progressed the study group grew and soon did not fit into Marius' apartment. Marius, Enjolras, and Couf were joined by Combeferre for their political ideologies class. He in turn encouraged Joly to attend to aid him with his psychology study. Naturally with Joly came his two housemates, Musichetta and Bousset, who studied chemistry and sociology respectively. Jehan was a childhood friend of Musichetta and was studying literature. And Feuilly, a friend of Grantaire, studied Eastern History.

This group began to meet in a café, the Musain, not far from Marius and Eponine's apartments. As you can imagine, such a passionate group of people would often turn conversation of academic referencing styles to current affairs and general social observations. Most of the time Eponine would sit and listen, particularly when Marius spoke. Sometimes Marius did not come, which was when she allowed Grantaire to give her coffee an Irish twist. To her, they all spoke such clever things so she stayed to learn as much as she could.

After studying at the Musain the group would move to a bar called the Corinth. It was here, under the relaxed chemical induced haze, that Enjolras discovered his fellow students longed for the same utopia he felt obliged to bring to his homeland, his Patria. They all became his captive audience and collectively began to stoke the flames of revolution within each other.

For Eponine, Grantaire, and Feuilly it was almost like watching animals in a zoo enter the wild for the first time. The trio knew their fellow students had good intentions, however, unlike the three of them, they were all painfully bourgeois with their parents paying their tuition. Grantaire was able to study due to his art scholarship, and Feuilly ran an etsy store to help over his expenses. Eponine was still relying on the witness protection support. She was not satisfied with this arrangement, no longer wanting to feel like burden on any individual or society.

One day there was a sign in the window of the Musain asking for staff. She took a deep breath and approached the manager, a fabulously abrasive man named Michel.

"What do you want, miss?" He grunted at her.

"Uh, I saw that you were looking for staff and I was wondering if I could apply?" She meekly informed him.

"What's your name then?" He asked.

"Eponine Jondrette."

"Do you have service experience?" Michel raised an eyebrow at her.

Her mind flashed back to her parents' old tavern where she had years of experience service, probably more than he did. However she couldn't tell him that. The Patron Minette had ears everywhere, ears that were waiting for a traitor to slip up.

"Yes." She replied, confidently.

"Well then, go on, where did you work? Who is your reference?" He asked, breath heavy with suspicion. A worried look fell over Eponine's face, when suddenly she felt a war, hand on her shoulder.

"I am her reference." The voice belonged to Enjolras.

"Oh! Monsieur Enjolras! Are you really a reference for her?" Michel blushed at him.

"Oui Michel, she makes the best mocha lattes you have ever had." Enjolras smiled at her. It was the first moment of warmth she had seen break through from his marble, icy demeanour.

"Well, I don't know if it's the best you've had…" Muttered Eponine.

"I am not known to hyperbolise, Eponine." Enjolras' face drained from the warmth.

"Can you do a trial shift tomorrow?" Michel snapped back at her.

"Oui! Merci Monsieur!" She responded with excitement.

"Be here at 11am. Wear black, like you are now, but ditch the gloves. We don't want you looking like you're going to pick our customer's pockets." Eponine subconsciously put her hands in her own pockets.

"Ok, fille, I will see you then." Michel abruptly declared and turned his back on them.

"Michel!" Called Enjolras, "She has a name and it is Eponine."

"Je suis desole, Eponine." Michel skulked behind the bar.

"Enjolras, that was so nice of you to do, but you didn't have to." Said Eponine.

"It is no problem at all, besides you make us drinks to study with, so I figured you might as well be paid to do so." He smiled once more at her. " And it helps that Michel has a crush on me." He winked at her.

Eponine was beginning to understand why.


	6. Chapter 5

**AN: Happy (slightly belated) Bastille Day everyone!**

As Eponine worked hard at the café to become independent and leave her past behind, the Amis spent more time at the Musain studying, if only for the fact it was where Eponine was, and where Eponine was there was also caffeinated drinks. The group would study and debate well into her evening, and beyond closing hours when Eponine worked the end of day shift.

One evening the radio played as Eponine and the Amis worked. It was parliamentary leader Louis Enjolras announcing a govt cut in funding to the welfare system. The group was silent as they'd listened, exchanging looks of despair with each other. It was only Enjolras who kept his head in his work, pen scratching away at his paper on criminal law. It was announced that anyone earning a wage would no longer be entitled to welfare benefits from the government. Instead this money was being funnelled into businesses who were already heavily supported by the state treasury.

Grantaire took an aggressive swig of his flask, Feuilly looked on with panic written all over his face, and Eponine almost burst into tears thinking about finances, her future, and the potential of having to return to the Patron just to survive. These were the three who would be affected the most by this change.

"Apollo, when are you going to reign your people in? A starving artist needs to drink!" Grantaire broke the silence.

"Not my people, R," retorted Enjolras, "and I'm working on it. Besides, if you didn't drink so much perhaps you wouldn't be starving."

Eponine interrupted. "But his name is Enjolras. Forgive me if I'm wrong, but it isn't exactly a common name. Are you not related to Louis Enjolras?" Combeferre stepped in before giving Enjolras the opportunity to tear anyone apart.

"La famille Enjolras are indeed one of the oldest families in France with a proud history of serving le Roi et la Reine. Our Enjolras here, is what those in the know would call a black sheep."

"A proud black sheep." Enjolras interjected. His friends all smiled at him, Grantaire even toasting his flask in Enjolras' direction.

"I can't live off my crafts, and I still want to study. Why is it that their children can study and become lords and ladies and I have to sit here making trinkets to get by?" Feuilly erupted.

"We should use our position to change it, or at least get the gears into motion!" Retorted Marius. Eponine loved seeing him passionate, whether it was about social injustice or Napoleonic history. To her, he was his most attractive when he was alive like a fire.

"Marius, are you proposing that we fight back?" Enjolras asked, sternly. The Amis could see the cogs turning behind his eyes.

"Well we can't sit and watch as those we love starve!" Eponine's heart skipped a beat at Marius' reply. Enjolras' face melted from the ice once more as a gigantic grin grew across it. He took a deep breath.

"I have begun concieving a plan." He informed the group. His smile was transplanted onto everyone else's, with the exception of Grantaire who simply muttered 'Of course you have.'

"I have been discussing with Jehan the security of the government websites." Enjolras informed them. The students looked around, confused. Jehan was a poet, not a hacker.

"There is something so mystical about code and numbers that human language cannot describe. I learnt to create entire worlds and systems beyond the comprehension of linguistics over the years. Sometimes I also like to see them burn." Jehan wistfully informed them. "The government's cyber security is frightening, beautifully lax in almost every way, or at least the best way."

"So Jehan was a crazy hacker, programmer genius all this time?" Questioned Grantaire, voicing the thoughts of all the Amis in the room. "Well, stranger things have happened, I suppose." He took another swi of his flask.

"I'm not surprised by their lack of security, they are so arrogant that they don't live in reality."Musichetta contributed.

"What's the plan, Apollo?" Asked Bousset.

"We hack their official government sites and post a single video, calling them out and drawing attention to the suffering. Then we give them a date for a rally, for the revolution." The table cheered in response. "We will each have our roles to play. Eponine, do you think we will be able to stay after hours in the back room a few nights a week?"

Whenever I am working it won't be a problem, Enjolras." She replied.

"We will need to take care of our own in light of tonight's developments. Who here is going to be effected by this new policy?" Asked Courfeyrac. Eponine, Feuilly and Grantaire raised their hands.

"Grantaire, your food and board are taken care of. You are my brother, consider the Enjolras family fortune as your own." Enjolras and Grantaire embraced as brothers.

"I am entirely in your debt without any chance to repay you." Replied Grantaire, " I owe you at least a dozen life size naked portraits of yourself!"

"You owe me nothing and I can guarantee you that I am never ever going to call in that favour." Enjolras laughed.

"You should move in with me, Feuilly." Said Jehan, "I have always wanted a room mate and I adore watching your hands work their magic."

"Well, Eponine is at my place all the time anyway, I've only a couch but if you want to stay, Eponine, it is yours." Marius told her. She did her best not to squeal on the spot.

"Oh thank you Monsieur! I won't be a burden, I promise!" This was perfect. In her head, Eponine was already imagining possible scenarios which would place her in the arms of Marius in his bed. Marius was also looking forward to having Eponine around. Cosette would be arriving in a month and some female advice would most certainly not go astray if the chemistry from their letters translated into real life.

**AN: You are all such precious, patient cinnamon buns too pure! The action will kick off in the next couple of chapters so stay tuned! I have a broad story planned and I know where I want it to go, but if there is something that would would like to see in the story, lttle quirks or backstories or even relationships between the characters, please PM me and I would love to discuss with all of you!**


	7. Chapter 6

The process of Eponine's move was very gradual. She only grabbed what she needed day by day from her apartment across the street. After all, Marius was her soulmate, she didn't want to wear out her welcome with him in the first couple of days. As promised, Marius provided the couch for her. It was more comfortable than the cheap futon which was provided in her apartment. It seemed that despite Marius' insistence of independence, the Pontmercys spared no expense to make their heir comfortable.

The pair soon fell into a cozy routine; Eponine rose in the morning first and prepared breakfast and coffee while Marius got ready for class and finished the last of any work he had left the night before. They both departed at the same time and then met in the afternoons at the Musain. It was domestic bliss and for the first time in her life Eponine felt happy and safe. That was until she was paid a visit from Javert.

It was at the Musain, after the lunch rush but before the students were finished for the day. The café was empty and Eponine was busying herself behind the counter with cleaning. When she turned back to face the room, there he stood and she was frozen in place. Without looking at her he ordered a double espresso. His voice was as rough as she remembered it. She moved behind the machine and proceeded to pull the shot.

"I see that you are trying to assert your independence from our hospitality." Javert growled.

"I'm just trying to keep busy, and I don't want to rely on the goodwill of the government forever." Eponine replied, meekly.

"I applaud your attempt to take initiative, however misguided it is. It does create a rather ugly situation though, in relation to our arrangement." He told her.

"I thought it might, so I have begun to make alternative arrangements regarding my accommodation." She poured the coffee into a paper cup.

"You realise that in doing this it removes any protection we have in place for you, don't you?" He warned her.

"If that is the price I pay for my very first taste at true freedom, so be it." Eponine proudly proclaimed. She was surprised at the words that left her mouth. She was beginning to sound like one of the Amis and she couldn't help imagine how proud Marius would have been if he was there, if he knew the details of her situation.

"Beware Eponine, you attract troublemakers like a magnet. You may start to sound like a student, but those students are terrorists in the making. Are you sure you want to be connected to yet another criminal organisation?" Javert's eyes darkened and his voice deepened. Eponine looked directly at him, their eyes meeting. For the first time in her life she felt proud and brave. She thrust the coffee at him.

"Coffee is on the house, if you leave right now." She pursed her lips at him. He took the coffee and left. Courfeyrac entered just as Javert exited. He rushed over to Eponine, who was still standing her ground against the memory of the exchange that had just happened.

"Was that…?!" Courfeyrac stumbled.

"The enemy." She nodded.

"What was Inspector Javert doing in this neighbourhood?" He questioned.

"Dishing out warnings in exchange for free coffee." She replied, bluntly.

"Jeez, Eponine, are you ok?" He asked her, one more time, as they were joined by Joly, Musichetta, and Jehan.

"Yeah," she smiled, the brightest smile she had smiled in a long time, "I'm actually fantastic. Are we filming tonight?"

"You better believe it!" Replied Musichetta. Eponine ushered the group to the back room to start their work.

Marius was nervous for more than one reason. Les Amis were filming the video to be uploaded to the government websites tonight, an act that could be considered nothing less than treason. However these nerves were nothing compared to the butterflies in his stomach that had grown as he realised he would be late to the meeting tonight. He did not want to explain to Enjolras why. He was currently at a gelato store a couple of streets from the Musain meeting with Cosette.

The pair had been friends as children, neighbours, at a young age, when suddenly Cosette and her father moved abroad when he was 8. Over the years the pair exchanged birthday and Christmas cards through the post. The previous card from Marius informed Cosette that he was moving out and detailed his new address. She wrote to his new address and informed him that she was moving back to Paris, this letter being the one that Eponine delivered to him. And what a fortunate letter it was, he thought to himself. Not only did it introduce awesome Eponine into his world, but it also brought sweet Cosette back to him.

"Marius?" A sweet voice behind him called out. He turned around and was greeted by absolute pure joy and sunshine. It was Cosette, and he knew he would be forever hers and nothing else.

"Cosette." He breathed in response. She smiled at him and the pair embraced. Now he was nervous for a third reason. He was instantly in love with the sweet little bird in front of him.


End file.
